


Suffer In The Spotlight

by julietofmayfair



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julietofmayfair/pseuds/julietofmayfair
Summary: Join us tonight for a special broadcast as we revisit all the best moments of the 58th Hunger Games, together with the victor, Miss Callia Allington from District 10. (Or, the pressures of being the Capitol's new darling).
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	Suffer In The Spotlight

It was a night of celebration at the Capitol. On every street and every corner, the banners and flags of the 58th Hunger Games decorated the city like a parade, and as the masses began flocking towards the Training Center, their cheerful cries mingling with the the sounds of triumphant music, it was beginning to feel a lot like one. The plaza before the building was already teeming with people--packed to the brim with hats and feathers and fashions of every size and color--, but the excitement coursing through them did nothing but grow as time ticked on. The stage at the center was empty, but soon the wait would finally be over, and the real show would begin.

Because the people of the Capitol had come to see one thing, and one thing only: The Angel of the Abattoir. The victor of the 58th Hunger Games.

The flashing lights of the cameras were blinding as Callia stepped out into the scene, and for a second she wondered if maybe she wasn't still in the Arena, facing against yet another of the Gamemakers' ploys. But the frenetic roaring of the public--the cheers and screams and countless calls of _"Callia! Callia! Callia!"_ \--brought her back to reality. She had made it. She had won the Games. The entire country had watched her run and fight and kill, but the Capitol still wanted more. They wanted to _know_ her. With a big, practiced smile she hoped would mask her rising repulsion, Callia glided to the center of the stage, letting Caesar Flickerman give her a kiss on the back of her hand before helping her down onto her sofa, ready for the interview to begin.

With a swift motion of his finger, the interviewer called the audience for silence, the shouts and cheers quickly turning into an expectant quiet. Once he was satisfied with the suspense, Caesar Flickerman gave a charming grin and turned his pink colored eyes to meet Callia's. "Ladies and gentlemen...let us give a big round of applause for our guest of honor of the night: the victor of the 58th Hunger Games, Miss Callia Allington!"

The thundering ovation was unlike anything Callia had ever experienced, but she knew enough not to let her winning smile falter. 

"Now _that's_ a round of applause!" Caesar exclaimed, casting an amused look at the audience as it finally settled down. Both his suit and hairdo--the classic pompadour and ponytail, another staple of the Games--were as pink as cotton candy this year, matching perfectly with his rose-colored contacts. "I think it's safe to say we haven't had such a welcome for a victor in quite a long time, haven't we?"

In that, at least, Callia knew he was right. The public had fallen in love with her from the moment of the Reaping, a fact that had no doubt helped her get as many sponsors as she had. It felt strange, feeling like she owed them, but she knew it could have been worse. She thought of last year's victor, that quiet, red headed boy who hadn't been so lucky. Foster, was it? Yes, at least they loved her.

"So, Callia..." Caesar's voice was warm and friendly, as if it was only the two of them that were privy to the conversation, not the whole country of Panem. "The last time we talked, right on this very stage, you told me I could bet anything I had that you'd be the one sitting here today...and here you are!"

Callia's smirk was subtle, but it was enough to cause people to swoon. "What can I say, Caesar? I guess the odds really were in my favor after all."

"Well, the odds were definitely in _our_ favor, too, let me say. What a Game you gave us, Miss Allington! What excitement!" A chorus of whoos and yeahs went up from the public, clearly agreeing with Caesar's statement. "And what beauty! I have to say, you look absolutely _stunning_ tonight, my dear. Doesn't she look stunning?"

Callia had expected the frivolous comments, so it wasn't that hard to mask her true feelings. With an elegant bow of her head she quickly got to her feet, letting her pale orange gown fall around her in all its spectacular glory. As the audience gasped and sighed with wonder, she turned to her stylist and blew a kiss her way, a thank you for such a beautiful gift. And it _was_ a stunning dress, even Callia had to admit it. The light, airy fabric shimmered in the studio light, making the contrast with Callia's dark skin even more striking, and the way it draped and highlighted her body was as beautiful as it was tasteful. She would have loved it, in another life. 

"A masterpiece, isn't it?" Caesar said as Callia once again took her seat, the last of the wolf-whistles from the public echoing his sentiment. Resting his arms on his knees, he leaned forward and stared at the main camera, his broadcaster smile never once leaving his face. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the time has come. Together with our victor, let us take a short trip down memory lane and relive the _exciting_ journey that was the 58th Hunger Games. Callia has given us everything to make this Games one truly unforgettable experience, but for now let's start where most great stories do...at the _beginning."_

Callia could feel the chills running down her spine as the lights on the stage began to dim. In the quiet of the night, she felt her heartbeat pounding inside her chest like a cannon, threatening to burst. She was grateful for that moment of darkness--that small pocket of privacy she no longer had any rights to--, because if Caesar was right, then she knew what she was about to see. With a rising fanfare, the giant screens around them suddenly came to life, and in them was the moment that changed Callia's life.

The day of the Reaping. The square before the Justice Building packed with terrified children, all well aware it could be one of the last days of their lives. The cheerful escort reaching his manicured hand into the ladies' bowl, ready to pick a girl to represent District 10 in battle. And right before he reads...a voice. _Her_ voice, loud and clear, volunteering as tribute. The crowd parting, whispering, still in shock from the unexplainable situation. And in the center of all this, a girl. A thin, determined-looking girl, walking towards the stage with a face as inscrutable as a dark black night.

As the clip came to a close and the lights began to flood the stage, Callia could feel her starlet smile creeping back onto her face once again, doing its best to hide the terror that still coursed through her veins. Seeing herself on the big screens had shaken her, the emotions of that fateful day coming back to her like haunting specters, but she knew she could not afford the honesty, not anymore. The audience had watched in silence, entranced by what was probably one of the standout moments from the Games, but now the cheering and clapping was as feverish as it had ever been. It seemed the Capitol really cared about their newest Hunger Games heroine, and judging by Caesar's delighted face, it wasn't too hard to see why.

"What a Reaping, huh?" he said, tapping his knees with excitement. "I don't think there's anyone out here that could have predicted such an outcome...I know _I_ didn't! Color me sur- _prised!"_ That got some laughter out of audience, whatever tense atmosphere remaining from the clip dissipating in an instant. If there was one thing that could be said about Caesar, he definitely knew how to work a crowd. "But before we move on--and trust me, we've got _plenty_ more to get to--, I think there's still a question on everyone's mind that's begging to be answered..."

With the ease of a professional, Caesar turned and fixed his pink-colored eyes on Callia, his cheerful demeanor becoming serious and solemn. Whatever he was about to say, Callia knew, she wasn't going to like it.

"I'm sure that you're aware, Callia, that what you did on that Reaping day wasn't something we see every day. You know as well as I do that volunteers aren't a common occurrence in most of the districts, let alone in your own District Ten. Come to think of it, I don't think there's _ever_ been a volunteer for District Ten before you." In the quiet that enveloped the stage, Caesar's voice rang out crystal clear, voicing the words that Callia didn't want to hear. "So what I'm trying to say, what all of Panem is dying to know, is... _why?_ What was the reason that brought a young woman like you to stand up and volunteer as tribute?"

_Why?_ For a brief moment, time seemed to come to a stop for Callia, that simple question playing over and over in her mind. The whole Capitol had eyes on her, waiting with bated breath for the answer they had all felt so entitled to, but could they take it? She knew she had a reason, but she also knew she could not give it to them, not if she wanted to live. A voice inside her told her to shout, to tell the truth and hold them all accountable, but what good would that do? As she looked at the faceless crowd before her, covered and protected by the stark studio light, the only thing Callia could feel was anger.

_You want to know why? Because I was dying! Because every night my family went to bed without a meal in their stomachs, and every morning they got up and went to work at the slaughterhouses, slaving away for some meat that never once reached our table. Do you understand what it is to starve? To be so desperate even your wretched Hunger Games feel not like the morbid hell they are, but like your only way out? I never wanted fame. I never wanted you to look at me and feel like you know me, because you will never, ever know me, but if you want an answer, I'll give one to you._

_I volunteered as tribute because you left me no choice. I either became a victor--coming back to my family with enough money to never worry about starving again--, or I died somewhere in that battlefield, becoming one less mouth to feed. And at the end of the day, I didn't care which one it was._

With a small tilt of her head, Callia laughed and gave the people of Panem the most dazzling smile they had ever seen. "Why, I just knew I could win! Can't a girl feel confident every now and then?"

As the crowd before her erupted into cheers--their applause and enthusiasm even now reaching new peaks--, Callia knew that it was all over. They had done it. There would be no truth to tell, no reckoning for the people of the Capitol. To them, she would forever be Callia Allington, the self-assured volunteer who saw the Games as nothing more than a chance to prove her worth. Another puppet. Another pawn. She tried to remind herself that her family was safe now, free from hunger, harm or pain, but the magnitude of the sacrifice she had made was only now becoming clear. From that moment onward, her life was no longer her own. Win or lose, she had killed herself.

"There you have it, folks! A victor through and through!" For the people of the Capitol, Caesar's enthusiasm was a perpetual source of delight, but to Callia it only made her feel worse. Had his voice always been this grating? This unbearably, unreasonably fake? "Now, as much as I'd love to stay here and talk more about that unforgettable Reaping, I know you're all dying to revisit yet another standout moment of the Games: the Parade! Oh yes, who could forget seeing Callia up in her chariot, standing proud and tall beside her opponents, the Angel of the Abattoir in all her charming, terrifying glory! What do you say we go back, and fall in love all over again?" 

With another of his sickeningly cloying smiles, Caesar turned and placed his hand on Callia's shoulder, the friendly gesture making Callia want to squirm.

"How about it, Miss Allington? Shall we?"

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you all!_

"Ready when you are."


End file.
